Chasing This Starlight
by futurerustfuture-dust
Summary: When Natasha loses her memories after being targeted by an unknown enemy, there's only one person Thor knows who has the capability of bringing them back. A pity Loki asked Thor to never interfere in his life again after dropping to Earth half a year ago.
1. Chapter 1

Everything had been going well enough, Natasha thought, until Tony decided to run off his mouth. As was normal with Anthony Stark, he never knew how to keep his own thoughts well enough to himself, and though they hadn't had much time together since Fury had mandated they all move into the man's tower (which he was thrilled with) Natasha was already growing fed up with the bastard. He had a hard time getting over the fact that Nat had fooled him into thinking she was really just Natalie Rushman from Legal, though really she hadn't had to try hard with him at all, and never failed to bring it up whenever she did something he didn't like.

This time had just been one too many, and Nat had left with a slammed door and a curse in Russian to let him know that she meant business. She was damn good at hiding her feelings, so when they poked out like that, rearing their ugly little Soviet-inspired heads, they knew to bunker down and wait until she came back with her chocolates from Soho and her Starbucks venti chocolate chai latte with three shots of espresso and an extra shot of mocha

Guilty pleasure.

Why Fury had thought that getting two assassins, a idiot playboy, a super soldier that was still dealing with PTSD, and a mourning demigod who'd miraculously made it back to Midgard to try and make himself feel better to all live in the same house was a good idea was beyond her. It sounded like the recipe for a bomb, not a working, functioning team. They had no similarities, no common ground. No strengths together. They couldn't work as a functioning unit, couldn't do any sort of missions together because they wouldn't train together (Tony adamantly explained all he needed was his damn suit, much to Rogers' annoyance and insistence that, had he known a little self-defense he might've been able to stop the attack in Iraq.) They were a liability. A disaster. A clusterfuck of huge egos and mismatched personalities that would never, in a million years, be anything more.

And Fury wanted them to play nice?

She snorted from around her drink, sipping at the hot liquid and allowing the hot liquid to seep down into her stomach, rolling along with the desire to punch Tony Stark square in the jaw and steal a quinjet to just leave. Her attention was so diverted that she barely noticed the three men that had followed her. Clumsy, she would realize later. Her emotions had gotten into the way.

She didn't realize that the first hand wrapped around her mouth and the second struck her hard on the temple before everything went dark.

* * *

When she woke up it was to an empty warehouse, the night already having set in on the land around her, casting deep, long shadows into the warehouse. She was given nothing to use as far as light went, and her arms and legs were both bound to the chair.

She nearly screamed, the panic rising so swiftly in her gut. What the hell had happened? How had she gotten there, and what was going on? Tears ran, hot and fast, down her cheeks, as a crash came from downstairs.

No. No no no this wasn't fair! She looked wildly from side to side, trying to find out a way to hobble away, to find a safe hiding place, just as a voice from beneath hissed quietly for a "Natasha?"

Who the hell was that? She tried to slow the panic, tried to remember what it was like to breath in, but nothing was making any sense. It was as though everything that had happened-ever-had blanked out. Not only was the world around her dark, but her memories, her thoughts, they were all dark, too. Empty, vacant. Who the hell was she? A low keen escaped her mouth as she hung her head and started to cry, unable to think of doing anything worse. The footsteps coming towards her hurried. Maybe they were coming to help?

Hopefully?

She didn't have to have her memories to tell her that this was not a good place to be in, nor a good situation to find oneself in, but she couldn't get out of the rope bindings, and she couldn't see any other way around it. She tried scooting back a little, just to get herself some room, but the chair made a horrible scraping noise as it moved on the hard cement floor that made her stop, stock-still, as the footsteps seemed to come to her level.

_'Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasedon'tkillmedon'tkillmeplease-.'_

"Natasha? Agent Romanov?" The voices hissed out again, lights passing by her eyes. Did she dare call out? Was that even her? She didn't know, and a sob escaped her lips, loud enough to catch the attention of whoever was coming. Another light skittered over her, and a quiet sigh of relief passed through the man's lips.

"Oh thank God-Tasha." He stowed away the bow he'd been carrying and headed closer. She couldn't help but shy away when he reached out a hand, and his flashlight she could see the confusion twist his worried features.

"Hey, you're okay," he murmured, one hand stroking the side of her face gently, almost affectionately, before moving to undo the bindings. He'd pulled a knife free, and though she'd squirmed at the sight, he used the sharp blade to saw at the rope with one hand, the other pressing down on a device in his ear.

"This is Barton-I found Agent Romanov, copy?"

There must've been a response.

"Understood. Will be at extraction point soon. Soft opening when we get to base."

Natasha could hardly understand a word of it, clinging to his name. Barton. It didn't make any sense to her, but none of it did. She was Agent Romanov, she could only assume, but what the hell was she an agent of? And why?

"Natasha, what happened?" He was looking at her now, blue eyes bright even in the darkness, watching her for the smallest hints of understanding. Anything. She wished she could give some to him, but there was nothing for her to remember or fall back on. Another sob left her lips and it was as though someone had been shot in front of his eyes the way they widened and his breath quickened.

"Oh God. Nat-What'd they do?" He asked as he, once again, cupped the side of her face, tipping it up and to the side as though looking her over for bruises. She didn't think she had any, didn't feel as though she'd been bruised. Perhaps, but not likely.

"Nothing-I don't know," she whimpered as he pulled the last of the ropes free. Others had joined them, now, and they all had similar looks of shock on their face at the tears that spilled freely down her face. "I don't know who it was, or what happened. I just woke up. I don't know who I am." She admitted with a wail so loud he actually took a step backwards, his eyes so wide they might have popped out of his face. It didn't help her, and she only cried harder. Slowly, he took her in his arms and held her tight, pulling her free from the last of the bindings to hug her.

"Hey, Tasha, it's okay. We'll get it figured out," he promised. "Just-just come with us, okay?"

She nodded, and followed him out to where the cars had parked just to the side of the building. The man, Barton, was whispering something about keeping everyone away when they got back to base, as Nat was offered a seat in the backseat of the car. She kept to herself, swallowing thickly, as Barton piled in beside her and ordered that they leave, keeping his voice muted so as not to scare her. She appreciated it, she supposed.

"What am I-who am I? Why were you guys looking for me?" She asked quietly, turning to face Barton with wide eyes, wishing she could think of a way to stop herself from shaking as hard as she was. It was maddening, that she couldn't get basic control over her body, but she'd never been so afraid. Even if she ever had been, she couldn't remember it, dammit all.

"You're a spy, Natasha. A damn good one," He said, looking as though he wasn't used to the smile he was giving her, a sympathetic, apologetic one. Why not, she wondered. "You were my partner for work, and we think you were targeted because of something you knew. You don't remember anything?" He asked, brow drawn in concern.

She shook her head, covering her mouth with her hand as she tried to force herself to breathe deep. To formulate some sort of response, or something to fill in the blank spots in her head. Nothing came up, not even childhood memories, as though it was just a black, blank spot in her head. How the heck had that happened?

"I wish but it's like-it's like fuzzy. As though they don't exist." She gulped hard, wiping her eyes furiously and looking down in surprise as they came away covered in make-up. Oops?

Under his breath Barton swore, muttering something into the ear piece he'd been talking into before. There weren't many more questions between them as they drove through the city, though he did reach for her hand to take it. She pulled her hand back, unsure. No, she didn't really want to hold anyone's hair, not right then. Not without knowing him. He said they were partners but what the hell did that mean? And how was she supposed to know whether or not he was telling the damn truth?

A tall, dark-haired woman greeted them at the large doors of an even taller building than those around them. She shot the pair of them a tight, almost regretful, smile. Why? Natasha wondered, sure that her face telegraphed everything while these people seemed to keep it all under wraps no matter what. Spys, she supposed. It was part of the job. Perhaps she'd once done it, though any recollection of it was far gone. She kept her arms pulled in tight at her side as they led her down empty chrome colored hallways towards a large, square room. Two chairs sat at a table and the female, Maria, took one of them, the second being offered to Natasha. She frowned as she took it.

"What's wrong?" She asked. "Why am I here?" It couldn't have been a good thing, or else Barton would be with her, right?

"We just need to get your statement about what happened," Maria said, her eyes sympathetic as they turned to Natasha, her shoulders loosening as she scooted a little closer. "What can you remember about the place where Barton found you? Was there anything on the floor, anything unusual?"

Natasha shook her head, blinking back tears that never seemed to end. "No. Nothing. I don't know what you mean by unusual, anyway."

"Strange. Out of the ordinary for a warehouse. The district you were found in doesn't usually get used for anything, so that they took you there only means that they were intending you wouldn't get found anytime soon. Thankfully you have a tracker in your upper left arm," she nodded her head in its direction. "That allowed us to find you."

Natasha looked down at her arm, unsure what to expect as she looked up at down the pale skin. Scars littered the surface, the underside especially, but which of them was the location of the tracker? Maria called her attention back, smiling and looking as if she would rather be doing anything but sitting there working on the details with Natasha, and Nat? Well, she was in the same boat. They went back and forth over the details for some time before Nat lost her patience, her nails having indented the skin on the palms of her hands.

"I don't know, alright? I don't fucking know anything!" She all but screamed, her eyes wide and watching how one of Maria's hands, the right one, moved to her belt. How Maria's eyes narrowed and her lips pursed.

Natasha pulled back in on herself, biting her bottom lip. She hadn't meant to do that, to scare her or at least put her on edge.

"Sorry," she whispered, pulling her legs up to her chest so that her face could hide in her lap. "I'm sorry-I'm so, so sorry I just, I don't know anything, okay? Nothing." She muttered into her lap. What more was she supposed to say? There was nothing else about it. She had nothing to fall back on, no memories, no recollections. It was blank. Empty. All she knew was that she'd opened her eyes and was in that warehouse, or wherever the hell it was, a man named Barton had picked her up, told her he was her partner, she was a spy, and then she'd been brought here to be questioned by this woman. Nothing else came to her mind, nothing but fear, and she was sure by now she reeked of it. How could she not? Her body was trembling, her palms sweating. This fear, the anxiety, was going to be the death of her she was certain.

And they had nothing to go on, so it seemed, to try and help her get her memories back. The trembling began anew.

* * *

She was brought back to Stark Tower, where she was told she lived, and Clint kept by her the whole while, not wanting to scare her by letting her stay at the SHIELD headquarters with a million faces she wouldn't know. She'd heard him telling a tall man named Nick Fury that he'd keep an eye on her at all times, and she didn't mind it. They'd been hopeful that under the eye of two men called Stark and Banner that they might be able to find someway to bring her memories back. Natasha did, too, her eyes trying to take in the group of bodies that had weaved in and around them, taking no notice of the three of them, like clockwork. Crazy. Had she once been part of it?

She'd mulled over it while Barton drove, watching the cars as they passed by, the sky above them darkening with the oncoming of night.

"So, Stark Tower? What's there?" She asked quietly, turning her eyes to watch Barton as they stopped at a busy red light.

"Well, all the Avengers. That's what we call ourselves, at least," Barton said with the briefest of smiles, his blue eyes seeking out hers quickly.

"The Avengers?"

"Yeah. We, ah, haven't had anything to avenge yet, but it's you, I, Tony Stark-Iron Man. Steve Rogers, Captain America. Bruce Banner, Hulk, and Thor. Ah, Thor."

"What's wrong with him?" She asked, not understanding it.

"Well, he's just a god. A demi-god, or whatever I guess would be the technical term for it." Barton sighed, picking up speed as the cars around them moved once more. "I don't really know what to call Thor. Besides mopey, lately. These clouds?" He said as he arched his head a little towards the sky above, where clouds had further growing around a large tower. "They're all from him. He went off on a mission to Sweden not long ago, and when he came back he was all sulky and kept bringing in the rain and thunder. Don't know why, but that's Thor for you. He works in mysterious ways." His smile, this one teasing, was beginning to grow on her. Thankfully, too. She wasn't looking forward to living with a bunch of guys if she couldn't get along with at least one of them, but at least he was willing to help her.

On the way he filled her in on what to expect from the others. She knew already that Thor was to be tread carefully around, and learned how Stark had a quick tongue but might start being careful around her. Apparently he was blaming himself for what had happened to Natasha, the pair of them having gotten into it right before she'd disappeared. "Was it his fault?" Natasha asked, curious.

Barton grew quiet, giving a one shoulder shrug. "I don't know, Tash. It's hard to say. You guys have gotten into it before but he's never been one to leave well alone. Still bitter about you getting the best of him when you ended up infiltrating Stark Enterprises."

"I did that?" She asked, eyes wide as he pulled into a large carpark besides the building she'd set her eyes on before, the man's last name plastered to the front like a signal. Curious. Did he have something against subtlety?

"Yep. I told you you were-are. You are the best," he said, wincing at the slip. Natasha reached over to grip his shoulder, to try and squeeze it reassuringly. When he turned to her she offered him a small smile.

"We'll get my memories back, right?" She asked.

"Yeah, of course."

"Then don't worry about offending me. I'll probably be so caught up with having everything I forgot back that I'll forget you said anything at all about it." Well, at least she thought that was how it would work. When she turned to get out she missed his grimace. He hoped they got her memories back. He couldn't imagine her without them; there was far too much danger.

* * *

A/N: Alright! First shot at a T rated fic [Surprise surprise] though it may change in later chapters. Goodness only knows. Written for the amazing Bella, who requested a fic where Nat loses her memories and Loki helps bring them back. I twisted it just a touch to make it a WIP, hope you don't mind darling!  
Thanks so much for reading, as ever!


	2. Chapter 2

Nat wasn't sure what she'd been expecting when she'd heard she would be living with a group of men, not having anything else to go off of but Clint and the way he reacted around her. She imagined, perhaps, that the men she would meet would be at least similar to him, that if they were to work as some semblance of team, though Clint had used that word very loosely it seemed, they would at least have some commonalities and she could try and learn them.

"God dammit Bruce, why'd you have to hit me with the blue shell?!" A distraught voice sounded from the kitchen, echoing through the elevator that Nat and Clint were standing in, the compartment having just stopped rising to let them out. Nat swallowed thickly. What the hell was a blue shell, and why was this Bruce hitting someone with it? She looked wildly over to her partner, remembering his warning not to get Bruce angry, but he just gave a soft sigh.

"I warned them to go easy on you," he muttered with a groan, the doors opening in time for them to hear another string of curses. Loud, peppy music blared from speakers as three figures sat, hunched over and on the edge of the couch, in front of a TV, a whirl of color and creatures on bizarre looking vehicles driving around a rainbow track that didn't seem to have any sort of railings.

_'What are they doing?' _

"Guys!" Barton called out, though one hand from the shorter, dark haired man waved behind him as a sort of greeting, or a warning not to interfere. "Natasha's home."

"Shit-Jarvis, pause!"

"Yes, sir." Came a cool, disembodied voice from above as the noises from the television stopped, and the two figures at the couch in front of it turned to face them both, the one with glasses Natasha knew from Clint's description to be Bruce, the same that she knew Tony Stark from the glowing blue arc in his chest. He was the one that she was supposed to be mad at, and she supposed she could see the apology written on his face. Curious, though if he drove her to . . . whatever it was that happened maybe he deserved it. Still, she couldn't really be mad at him for something she didn't remember.

"Hey, good to see you again Natasha," Bruce said, offering her a crooked smile that she liked instantly, unable to see why Barton seemed to tense up when he spoke. What was wrong with him? It wasn't like he was angry at the moment, right? Well, he didn't seem to be to her, at least, and if he wasn't angry then he couldn't have been a danger. She chanced a smile of her own though she felt herself subconsciously step closer to Clint, swallowing hard.

"Uh, I would say the same for you, but I can't remember the last time I saw you," she said, tongue feeling heavy with the strangeness of her situation. Well if they thought it was odd they should try living her new life. Or whatever.

"Well, I'm Bruce,"the doctor started, still shooting her that pleasant, almost relaxing smile. She dipped her head in greeting, preferring to play along with the introductions rather than try to explain that she knew who they were but didn't . . . didn't know who they were. Weird.

"And I'm Tony." The inventor chimed in, his brown eyes never leaving hers. "So, you don't remember a thing?"

"Nope," she said with a shrug apparently large enough to make his eyes go wide. What? Was it something she did? Some cultural idea she had no clue she was offending, or something? "Any chance you can help me?"

"Miss. Romanov step into my office," Tony said, and though his eyes still showed he was afraid he copped a cocky grin. "After this game, of course."

Sure, whatever he said. What did she know, after all? She settled down on one of the chairs in what they explained to be the main living room, watching as the two men picked right back up where they left off, driving around in circles and throwing nonsensical items at one another: a blue shell, a green one, using mushrooms to speed up, throwing banana peels to slip the other driver. It was madness, but at the same time Natasha couldn't help but grin, feeling herself loosening up for the first time all day. And if the way her cheeks hurt from having smiled so much wax any indication, it was likely the first time she'd done it in some time. She was even able to forget about Barton, not noticing how stricken the man was by how easily Natasha smiled now, how bright her expression became now that she wasn't so guarded. He'd known her for so long he'd nearly forgotten what she looked like to look so, well, carefree for once. It was too bad that such happiness came at the price of her memories, not that she knew that.

The race ended quickly enough and Tony looked over to find Natasha grinning as she extended her hand. "I want to play," she said with a chuckle. "It can't be too hard, right, if you can manage it?"

It was all he could do not to gape at her. The Natasha Romanov teasing him? The others would never believe him, and he could only hope that Jarvis was taping this so he could prove it to her when she got her memories back.

"We've gotta get you to the lab first," he said, not wanting to do the work, but judged on the look that Barton was giving him it was for the best. "Then you can face against Bruce and I," he smirked. "Just so I can prove to you that, super spy you might be, you'll never beat me at Mario Kart."

* * *

The tests were inconclusive, unfortunately, and though they played video games in between Tony couldn't help but feel a little more worried every time that Jarvis contacted him to tell him that he was unable to detect any sort of drug or pathogen that might've done that; as far as he was concerned, and as far as the tests were showing, there was nothing physically wrong with her. Only mentally. He kept this information from Nat, not wanting to worry her as she cackled alongside Bruce, looking more relaxed than Tony had ever seen her. Even when she was pretending to be Natalie from Legal she'd never relaxed herself this much, allowed herself to enjoy life this much. It was sad, Tony couldn't help but think, and wondered whether or not they should just give her a chance at a clean slate, another try at life. For all she'd suffered through she certainly deserved it, deserved the break from the guilt and pressure of her past and current life.

Clint wasn't so gung-ho about that idea. "Don't you understand what kind of danger she's in?" He demanded through clenched teeth, his eyes skittering from where Nat was beside Bruce to Tony again before yanking the man aside. "You probably can't begin to even grasp it, but she's made enemies who want her dead on sight, who will stop at nothing to ensure that her life is ended. I cannot let that happen, and without the skills necessary to fight and to keep herself alive she is a huge liability. She couldn't go anywhere without fear of being recognized even if she were to live a civilian life. The families of many of the thugs she put away are still on the street, looking for her. She's survived this long because she's able to fight and protect herself. I can't always be for her, Stark. Can you when you can't even take care of-."

He cut himself short and Tony stiffened. The bastard had no right to bring that up, not needing to complete his sentence for Tony to know what he was talking about. Pepper, unable to stand what had happened with Tony shutting her out when he thought he was going to die, after having been put through hell time and time again not just with Tony being Iron Man, but also from all the times before that, had broken it off with him, and though she still ran Stark Industries (because even he knew that there was no one more qualified or better at it) she and Happy had gotten into a relationship. He'd made peace with that, Bruce had moved in on Fury's orders and the two had hit it off. He couldn't complain.

It sure as hell didn't mean that Barton had a right to bring it up as a fault of Tony's, as if he didn't know it already. His gaze hardened as Clint looked down to mutter an apology.

"That was out of line," Clint said quietly, looking up at the inventor, who'd folded his arms across his chest and glowered.

"No shit."

"Sorry."

He had a right to be. "Look, I don't know what else to do, okay? I've got nothing more that can help besides us hoping that maybe they come back, okay? Unless you can find me an example of this happening to someone else, give me a sort of formula to follow, then I've got nothing. I'm sorry. I really am. But there's nothing more to do be done about her memory loss, Barton." He reached a hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose, eyes closing. "All we can do is hope that maybe they get triggered into coming back. Or one of us gains some sort of extra-oh shit. Where's Thor?" He asked, his eyes widening as the realization hit him.

"Upstairs, I think. It's gloomy enough around the building that he has to be here somewhere. Tony where are you going?" Barton called off after the running figure, his mind trying to catch up as he chased him.

"He's a god, right? Or demi god or alien or whatever the hell. They've got magic, I always hear him talking to Steve about it-right?"

Clint's pace quickened as they sprinted up flights of stairs to get to the blond thunderer. True to form he was sitting in the kitchen, eating his feelings in pop tarts as he was likely to do on an off day, and his blue eyes widened in surprise to see both men stopping just inside the kitchen doorway, hunched over and struggling to breathe.

"Thor. Got a situation. Need help." Tony wheezed, wiping the sweat from his brow as he clutched at his side, the muscle aching. Clint filled him in further, explaining how Nat had lost her memories, and that Tony was getting nowhere with science.

"In short, we need your magic buddy," Tony cut him off, smiling brightly at the man. "You Asgardians have it, right? You keep telling Rogers about it." H wished Captain Spangly was there to back him up just in case Thor tried to deny it. As he seemed to be doing right then.

"I am sorry my friends, but I do not have magic. Only few are born with the Seidr that you need and the majority of them have not conquered the knowledge how to heal." Here he paused, gnawing his bottom lip as he turned away to stare down at his hands. "There is only one I know of with the sufficient skill to do this."

"Who-can we get him or her here?" Tony asked, taking a step forward. There wasn't exactly any time to lose!

"My brother." Thor sighed.

By Tony's side Clint deflated. "Well shit. He's dead, that's what you told us. He fell from Asgard and died."

Again silence. Thor didn't look up, and Tony fidgeted, confused.

"Thor?" He tested.

"I may have been mistaken, friends, to think that Loki had died when he fell off the bifrost, but he does no longer wish to speak with me, or have anything else to do with me. I am sorry."

"Well we've gotta try anyway," Tony insisted, not willing to give up like that. Natasha, for all her faults and her stubbornness, wouldn't give up for them if she had the chance to set it right. He hoped. "Give me the coordinations. Let's at least take her there and see. Some time alone might've helped him." He paused. "And you owe us a hell of an explanation on the way."

* * *

A/N: Wow, hell of a lot of thanks for everyone who favorited and/or reviewed! You guys rock =] sorry for the short chapter, but hey! It's an update, right?


	3. Chapter 3

As they made plans for Thor, Tony, Barton, and Natasha to fly out to Sweden, where Thor's brother had last been seen, the thunderer filled them in on what was happening and why he'd lied to them about Loki's death. They'd taken up residence in the kitchen, Thor at the table, Tony and Clint sitting on the bar stools, facing the broad blond man, with Nat sitting on the other side of the table watching them stare at one another for some time. Were they going to say anything? Thor took a deep breath, looking down at his hands at first

"After my brother fell I searched tirelessly for him, and managed to find a hint of his magic. The three months I was gone and I told you that I'd gone to Asgard?" He asked, his brow pulled into a deep frown as Tony's expression darkened, not having liked being lied to. It certainly didn't help raise his ideals of the demigod, as though the man's crappy mood hadn't been detrimental enough.

"Yes, I remember it. We really needed you in one of our few team bonding missions." Well, they were supposed to be team bonding. What had resulted was a lot of cursing. Clint winced at the memory.

"Yeah, that sucked," he muttered.

"Well I apologize again for my absence," Thor said with a sigh, seated opposite the trio, Nat watching them each with an open expression. Huh. It must've been bad if Clint was frowning that way, his fingers tightening, then relaxing. The same, almost, how Tony's own fingers were tapping out a fierce rhythm. Did they have issues with sitting still when they were angry? It would surprise her, she supposed. From what she'd seen they worked pretty high risk jobs-the whole spy thing, and fighting thing that Tony was hinting at-so she supposed it made sense that they were always so high strung.

"Either way. I traced him back down to Sweden," Thor continued, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the table. "And he asked me to keep out of his business. He wishes to remain unknown, especially to SHIELD. Though I explained to him that Director Fury would rather know about him than for him to remain unknown and a possible threat, he made me swear not to break my silence. But for Natasha's sake I fear I cannot keep it quiet for very long, but we must not tell anyone else within the organization that we are visiting, or even that he is alive." His blue eyes sought theirs, keeping Tony's. The man looked scandalized.

"What?"

"C'mon Tony, you're good at a lot of things but not really at keeping secrets, if we're honest," Clint said. "You've got your strengths and you're amazing with weapons and inventing. But keeping your mouth shut?"

"I'm working on it," Tony growled, tensions rising once more. Nat frowned as she looked over to the pair of them, confused. Why were they so eager and quick to distrust one another?

"I thought we were supposed to be a team," she murmured, her head tipping ot the side. "That's what you said, Tony, that they were supposed to send you all on a way to build the team."

The silence deepened, mulled over between them all with curiosity and a certain sorrow, Natasha thought. The way that Clint's eyes flashed and Tony's lips quirked downwards, how Thor's shoulders loosened behind her. Had she said something wrong?

"You're right, Tash," Clint murmured. "You're right. We've just gotta work at it."

"And we'll get there," Tony muttered.

"Certainly," Thor agreed, not wanting to let the others down by not responding. Nat just smiled and nodded. Well, good. She hoped so. She didn't want to get her memories back and come to this craziness. She asked Thor to continue his story, smiling encouragingly as she reached out to take his hand in hers. He looked far too stressed for his own good.

"I hope that Loki is still where I left him," Thor murmured. "I am sure that he will know something to fix this problem, even if it is not magic in origin."

"You're sure?"

"I hope so. I know little else to do," he admitted with the shake of his head, squeezing Nat's hand tightly. "Though if there is anything else I can do to help please ask me and I will do all that I can to assist. I did not forget that it was you who sent Barton to assist in the defeating of the frost giants some few months ago."

Oh, well at least he didn't forget, because she obviously had no idea what he was talking about. So she simply smiled and nodded, assuring him it had been no problem before looking over to Clint. It hadn't been, right? He didn't say a word, just gave a one-armed shrug.

Jarvis came on the intercom moments later to tell them that the plane was ready for take off, the flight plan set for Stockholm, Sweden, a half day travel from where Thor thought Loki still was.

"When I get closer I will be able to find him via his magic," he assured them, and Nat gave him her most grateful smile. He returned it. "I am sure he would not hide from me again."

No one said anything. As Thor had said, there was little else to do besides hope.

* * *

Sweden, Natasha thought, was a nice country all around. The people seemed pleasant, and the traffic wasn't bad as Tony hailed a cab from the airport they'd landed in, smiling when he was rewarded with a shout of surprise at having Tony Stark in his car. Nat couldn't understand what the big hubbub was-it was just Tony, after all-but they got the ride free at least, Thor feeling out where his brother was supposed to be. Squished in next to Barton, Tony up in the front seat schmoozing the driver and Thor on the other side of the backseat, Nat watched the cars around them pass by, smiling to think how careless everyone else's lives must've been. It was curious that she should feel so care free, too, when there was so much at stake when it came to finding Loki.

"Are you doing alright?" Barton asked, leaning over to squeeze her hand. She nodded, smiling.

"Yeah. Just fine. Why?"

"Just making sure," he promised her with a wave of his hand as he smiled and went back to counting the minutes until they were supposed to be there.

They ended up in front of a police station, teeming with activity as sirens blared around them and cars came and went. Tony tipped the driver generously, despite the man's protests he didn't need it, and Nat suspected it was for his silence. The last thing they needed, she supposed, was word that Tony had come to Sweden. It would only attract attention, which Thor had said was the last thing that Loki had wanted. The blond led the way inside the tall police building, asking the responder at the desk for a Magnus Martinsson. She smiled and pointed them into the main room, where a curly haired blond man was bent over something or other. That was Loki?

She'd thought he'd look . . . well, more like Thor, she supposed. Asgardian, or whatever that meant. He was reserved, though, blue eyes turning almost immediately at the sound of Thor's voice as his lips pulled into a tight line. Uh-oh. That wasn't a good sign, was it? Nat shuffled near the back, hiding herself behind Barton, who squeezed her shoulder as the others came to stand in front of Magnus.

Another man, this one older, with sandy blond hair and glasses, looked confused as he stared from one group to the man working under him. "Magnus? Who are all these people?"

"It's alright Ken," the man-Magnus, murmured. "Acquaintances."

"I do not mean to interrupt but might we have a word with ?" Tony asked, deciding it best to take point. Magnus'-or Loki's, whoever's, eyes turned to him, and with a start of recognition they all seemed to realize at the same time who was standing in front of them.

"Uh, yeah. Sure," the other man, Ken, said. "Magnus take them to room number three? I think one and two are being used for interrogations still."

Oh, goodie. An interrogation room. Loki nodded and beckoned them to follow, his shoulders squared and his jaw set tight. Clint stayed close to Natasha the whole while, helping her keep the distance from the one who was supposed to help. She didn't mind. From what she'd heard from Thor he was a genius, but one with a nasty mouth and a tongue of silver used to pierce his enemies. She didn't want to be that. As promised the room they were led to was empty, and Loki brought in extra chairs before walking over to the wall and pushing a button. The lights dimmed a little, and Stark made some clever remark about mood lighting before Loki rejoined them.

"What do you want, Thor?" He demanded, his eyes locking onto the man said to be his brother. Nat supposed she could see it-the blond hair and the eye color and height, though for as built as Thor was, the other was wiry. She couldn't imagine he was any less lethal, though. "I told you to leave me alone."

"I know you did, brother-."

"Don't call me that," Loki hissed, eyes narrowed and taking a couple steps backwards. "I'm not your brother, Thor. I am, however, tired. Tired and wishing you were gone."

"We need your help, Loki," Thor said quickly, obviously not quite sure he'd get the chance to again. The man opposite him narrowed his eyes. He sighed and looked around to the group.

"Who's been cursed?" He asked, looking at them one by one.

Slowly, cautiously, Natasha stepped out from where Barton had been shielding her, her blue eyes unsure as they met Loki's. For half a moment she thought she saw his gaze soften, but whatever it was faded quickly. He took a couple steps towards her as well, and behind her Natasha could practically feel Barton tensing up. She looked back at him, trying to smile and say that everything was alright, when a hand reached out to take her chin and she was forced to look into Loki's blue eyes as well. Before her eyes he shimmered-actually shimmered with green light-and his appearance changed. He paled, considerably, his hair darkened and straightened out though she could see some curls near the sides and very back of his now pitch black hair, and his eyes became very, very green. She felt heat rising to her cheeks as she caught herself staring, openly, and the soft chuckle that resounded only fanned the flames.

"What happened to you?" He asked, tipping her chin further up and to the sides, as though looking for something, running a hand slowly through her red hair. Wherever his hand went the same green light followed, his long fingers tangling in her hair. The heat in her face only intensified, dammit all.

"Uh, apparently I can't remember anything about, well, anything," she said, tongue loose and mind wandering at what else he could do with those fingers. Ohhh that was awkward, and the quiet laugh that came from him told her that he had an inkling what was on her mind. Whoops?

"Obviously you have no recollection of what happened, where you were, who did this to you? No passing idea, or lasting glimpse of something perhaps you weren't supposed to?"

"No-she doesn't, or else we'd be following that lead rather than coming here," Barton snipped, his words like bullets as they made Loki's attention snap back to him. "And I'd appreciate it if you'd stop manhandling my partner."

"Partner?" Loki smirked, eyes lighting up as though the possibility of something far more sinister passed through them.

Nat swallowed thickly. Now she understood why Thor said to be careful. "We work together," she murmured. "That's all."

He nodded, and moved from her face and throat to her hands, checking the places between them as though expecting to find something, checked her wrists and arms.

"Should we, um, do this somewhere else? I don't think I have any markings or anything. It doesn't feel like it," she mumbled, looking down when he tried to catch her eyes again.

"Are you shy?" He asked, and something about his words made it sound like he was making fun of her. She scowled and pulled away. That wasn't very nice of him at all.

"Yes, actually. I just want my memories back, please." She said, rubbing her arms where he'd touched, where she swore was still burning from the connection of his skin on hers.

"It will take some time. I'll have to explain it to my SO," he said, looking to Stark. "And I'll look to you to pay for my time off," he said.

Stark shrugged, as though the concept didn't bother him. "Honey if I wanted I'd buy the damn police unit. Just get her memories back."

"Please, Loki," Thor added, noticing the way that Loki's jaw twitched, as if he was fighting back an urge to rip Stark apart, or something. Nat wrapped her arms around her midsection.

"It'll take a couple weeks, and it'll have to be just Natasha and I."

There was a clamor of disapproval, mostly from Barton, and Nat had to wait until Thor had silenced them before she managed to be heard. "How'd you know my name?" Natasha asked, surprised. She didn't think anyone had said it. His smirk was all she needed to confirm that, again, she really didn't want him ever angry at her or moving against her. That was a terrifying prospect.

"It's not hard to guess it. It's the only thing that you're sure about, and even then. I can see it in your mindseye, how you cling to it because it's all you've got left. I understand how important a name can be," he said, quietly. "And the two weeks is non negotiable. It is the length of time which the spell will ripen and take hold. It is not simple to call back one's memories when they've been locked away like this, though what is curious to me is what you knew that made you such a target," he confessed. "And for that I will take this on and help you. We'll need a place to stay, just Natasha and myself." He said. "You will all be able to stay nearby, but not all the time. There will be times when she and I need to be isolated." He said seriously, his eyes finding Thor's. The blond's widened.

Because that seriously made her feel better.

"Thor?" She asked, voice quiet, timid. She really didn't like that reaction.

"I know the spell of which he speaks, and can attest to its success rate." He assured her, smiling as warmly as he could manage. She didn't catch until it tapered off that it had never met his eyes. Her skin covered in goosebumps.

"I'll make reservations for one of the floors of a hotel. Any preference? Any sort of wind patterns or sun patterns you need to look for?" Tony asked, the sarcasm covering how worried he was. At least, Nat thought he was. It was so hard to tell with him.

"Just one where the rooms come equipped with an open bar," Loki muttered, slowly settling back into the persona of Magnus, shoulders tensing again as he ran a hand through the fluffy curls. He didn't look like he could hurt anyone like that, Natasha thought, looking more like a puppy dog than a serious threat. She was reminded of how his eyes had flashed with dark curiosity before and it made her shudder. She couldn't give him the chance to take her off guard like that. Brother, or friend, or whatever of Thor's that he was, she still had to be careful.

"Let's go, then." Magnus said, delving back into his other persona with a deep breath before allowing them out, bringing the lights back up.

"Why'd you dim them?" Nat murmured, curious. It hadn't really seemed to serve a purpose.

"It was a spell to keep any who were trying to look in from seeing me change," he murmured. "Appearances are everything."

She was quickly getting that.

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A/N: Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Natasha stepped out of the police building half an hour later with the others in front of her, Loki as Magnus leading the way. He'd gotten the time off cleared with Ken Wallander, his higher up, and though the man wasn't thrilled that one of his team was taking two weeks off for family reasons-a death in the family, as they'd said to avoid as many questions as possible-they'd understood. Thor had played along without issue, and Nat was glad that he'd chosen to forego the armor that she'd seen him wearing in one of the articles Tony, or someone, had framed and hung up in the house, and as they stepped out Magnus reached over to touch the plaid shirt that Thor had adopted.

"This is how you choose to dress yourself?" He asked, incredulous.

"I see your fashion taste has much changed yourself, you don't get to talk about mine," Thor said, trying not to grin at the banter between them. It must've felt good, she supposed, watching as they both loosened a little, going back and forth as Loki brought his car around. It wasn't exactly the best, but who was Nat to judge? Tony gave directions to the hotel that he'd already made reservations for, and Loki promised that he and Nat would meet them there. Barton looked as if he'd insist on going with them, and for half a minute Nat almost wished he would, and simultaneously wouldn't. This whole being unsure of herself thing sucked. It was Thor that convinced him to stay behind with the rest of them.

"No harm will befall her while she is with my brother, you have my word," Thor murmured. "If he's agreed to help her it would do him no good to harm her, and it may be key to figuring out exactly what is wrong."

Barton's jaw set hard, but he nodded, his eyes flashing a warning that Loki didn't seem to care about. With a kettle-drum heart Nat sat down beside the trickster demigod, strapping herself in quickly as Tony and the others caught a cab and led the way. In the silence Nat considered turning on the radio, because even if she didn't understand the words at least it would be some noise to fill in the emptiness that hung between them, but Loki, it seemed, had other plans. He chuckled when he caught sight of her hand moving to the knob and shook his head.

"So. Natasha. What else have learned about your companions while with them?" He asked, his appearance shimmering back into that of his real form, she supposed, his green eyes seeking her out and holding her gaze for half a second. She flushed.

"Uh, I don't know that that's really going to help-."

"It's not, but you need to be comfortable with me. You need to be in order for the spell to work. It's meant to be cast by someone who knows the other person intimately, who can call back that which the person was before. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," she flushed at the word intimate, wishing that she knew how to turn that specific feature of her body off. That would be helpful. "Well, Tony's a good guy. He seems to like keeping up the persona that he doesn't care, but obviously he does enough to bring me here and help. And he's really good at Mario Kart," she muttered this last bit distastefully. He'd beaten her, the jerk, four times out of five. "Uh. He's also Iron Man? But I'm not sure you're supposed to know that so if you could-."

"Anything that gets said between us stays between us," he assured her with the quickest roll of his eyes.

She frowned. "You know if I'm boring you you didn't have to ask."

"I was hoping you'd shed some insight on how they act around you," he said, the car coming to a slow stop at a red light, his gaze following a couple of pedestrians.

"But how am I supposed to know if they're acting off if I can't remember how they acted in the first place?"

"Your mind may be out of sorts, but your body, your gut, will tell you otherwise," he assured her. "It's muscle memory to grow tense when there's someone near you you don't trust, or to flush when you are attracted to someone." Here he grinned over at her and the same blush in question reappeared, though she did her best ot meet his gaze and hold it despite her body's betrayal.

"Well, Barton's protectiveness feels off. I mean, it makes sense since I apparently can't defend myself as well as I could. They're afraid of me being attacked."

"Why?"

"Apparently I'm a spy?" She shrugged, and punched his arm when he laughed. "Hey! Not nice. You don't know me," she said with a glower.

"I'm sorry," he said, breathing deep as he grinned, turning down a busy street, the cab just a few car lengths ahead of them. "Not funny, you're right. That is a very unfortunate position to be in, especially if you give so much away."

She huffed and folded her arms over her chest. "You're telling me. Apparently I'm one of the best."

"Which explains why you're always so confused by the blushing. Your body's not used to it, and so because it keeps happening, but you don't know anything different, your body is in a constant state of confusion. Does that sound familiar?"

Oh yeah it did. She nodded, watching him, wishing she could pull him apart with words the way that he seemed to do with her. Maybe she would be able to after she got herself back, or whatever.

"What of Thor?" Loki asked, and this time his voice got quieter, more concerned though it was plain even to Natasha that he was doing his best to hide it.

What about him? What was she supposed to say when she'd just met the man that day, basically. Had it only been a day? Her exhaustion hit her like a train, a yawn spilling from her lips. "Uhh, I don't know. He said I've helped him in the past, helped send Clint to help him. He misses you from what I can tell. Tony said that hes been in a constant state of depression since you've been gone, that the reason his tower never gets any sun is because your brother is sad and moody all the time. Uh, I think he has a boyfriend?" She asked, wincing when Loki let out a harsh laugh and nearly ran them off the road in surprise.

"Really? Which one?" He asked, gleeful. "He never believed me when I told him-."

"He's not here. I've actually not met him," she murmured. "Well, not with this memory haze thing going on. Maybe he'll join us later. It'd probably put Thor in a better mood."

Loki smirked and nodded, but said little else about the subject, gloating internally instead. By the time they'd gotten to the hotel his mind was back on business, though.

"There may be a great deal of things I ask you to do that will make you uncomfortable, that was another reason I began to ask you as much as I could about the others. It will not be possible for them to be present during much of these rituals, as it is likely their energy will be fed off of rather than the spell concentrating on saving yours. The spells will require blood, in some cases, though not enough to kill you. I promise," he said. "I have no interest or need to end your life."

She murmured that she understood. This was beyond anything she could comprehend, so she supposed if he said he needed something of hers to make it work . . . well she didn't much have a choice but to believe him. Again, Thor's warning that he was a liar came back to mind.

"I need you to promise not to lie to me, then, if I'm supposed to trust you," she said, meeting his eyes. "Is it fair enough that I ask you not to lie to me if I trust you with this?"

He pursed his lips, thinking it over. "I don't have to help you, you know that."

"Is asking you to tell the truth really that big of a deal?" She asked, incredulous. Honestly?

"Yes. The truth is not a pleasant subject and I deal in lies and deceit. Mischief is my craft."

"So I've heard," she said, voice dry. "But I have to trust that you will tell me the truth. And you said yourself that you were curious enough about what I knew that had my mind wiped that you'd help me. If you don't then you'll never find out." Maybe she wasn't so rusty at this questioning thing after all. He paused, considering her, before his lips spread into a wide grin she wasn't quite sure she liked or not.

"Very well, Natasha. You have a deal. From here on I'll only tell the truth, I swear it."

She paused, watching him, trying to make him feel uncomfortable. It didn't work, because his grin grew even wider. "Fine. Ready?" She asked, rubbing her arms. It felt like he was seeing her without her clothing on every time he shot her that look. He nodded and turned the car off after parking it, the others already waiting for them outside the building. Clint, as ever, looked worried for Nat's safety, while Thor's had eyes for no one but Loki, now dressed in a pair of black slacks and a white button up with the sleeves rolled up. Nat gawked when she turned back around to catch sight of him. Well. He filled that out nicely. Tony led them all inside, suitcase of things already in hand, and checked them in as Nat took her time looking around the hotel. It was enormous, and Tony had requested an entire floor to all of them for the next two weeks? Well, it certainly beat out quite a few other choices. They filed into the elevator, Loki looking entirely at ease while Thor stiffened. He prefered to take the stairs at Stark Tower, Tony murmured to Nat after giving Thor a curious stare, though she couldn't, for the life of her, understand why. Oh well. To each their own, she guessed.

As expected the entire floor was extravagant, nothing less for Tony Stark she supposed, who grinned as he showed off the suites that he'd gotten for them all, most of which extended far past what a normal room should have, with balconies and enormous televisions and living rooms, to say nothing of the bedrooms. Nat couldn't imagine what such a huge bed would be needed for, though Tony was quick to fill her in much to her dismay, turning away before he could see how red her face got. Jerk. Loki moved on and ended up deciding on a suite where the few rooms faced the sun, and quickly went about converting the living room area to something else, something far more arcane she supposed, watching him summon what looked like stones, strange, bright colored liquids that didn't look as though they could be from this world (although for all she knew they could) as well as an assortment of other materials, chief among them that caught her attention was a bright, silver dagger with a beautifully engraved hilt that made her break out into goosebumps. This wasn't something she was so sure about, now, her mind recalling how he might need her blood, and when he asked her to come forward it was with heavy feet.

"Pick a room and then meet me back out here?" He asked, green eyes bright as they met hers. She could tell that he'd missed this, the world practically vibrating around him. "We've gotta get started immediately."

"I don't mean to whine but can it wait? I'm exhausted." She said, yawning without even meaning to, just driving her point further home. Wordlessly he surveyed her, then gave a quiet sigh.

"If you insist. Would you like to sleep with me?"

She nearly choked in surprise. "Excuse you?" She demanded. She wasn't so naive that she didn't know what that meant!

"Not in that way," Loki said with a bark of a laugh and the same broad grin as before, except this time rather than making her uncomfortable it only made her heart beat faster. Oh, no. Not good. "But contact is good for intimacy, and I said you and I need to be intimate for this to work."

Good God, what had Thor signed her up for? She murmured her assent, bobbing her head as she brought a small bag of things that Barton had packed for her into the nearest room, Loki following behind her.

"Right now?" She asked, not proud of the way her voice squeaked. Dammit, she was a full grown woman! She needed to act like it.

He just smiled and shook his head. "No. Not now. You rest and I'll wake you up when the others are getting food. Shall I?"

"Okay. And we'll start all this tomorrow?"

"Yes. Tomorrow. Now go to sleep," he said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at how tired she'd been before and now how awake she seemed if her questions were any indication, while Nat just smiled as his back turned. Heh. She was getting her way anyway, and she reveled in the small victory while she could.

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A/N: Wow, thank you all so much for the feedback on the last chapter! You guys are incredible. Hope you enjoyed the latest chapter-the next one we start getting to the good stuff =]


	5. Chapter 5

The next day dawned bright, and Loki was up with the sun, arranging things in the middle room so that by the time Natasha's body woke her up not long after, likely used to the early mornings, he came knocking on her door just as she was standing up out of bed, stretching. She'd managed to get away without sleeping beside him in bed that night, and though she understood the necessity of it it didn't mean she was wholly comfortable right then and there with the idea. Not yet, a least. She'd have to be if she wanted this to work, though, she supposed.

"Time to get up," Loki reminded her, voice just loud enough to wake her up.

"I already am," she called back, voice cut off by a yawn. She needed coffee or something, something to help kick start her day, and with heavy feet and groggy eyes she padded out of the bedroom. not caring much that her shorts rode up perhaps a little too much, or that her tank top was askew and showing her midriff. What did that matter when she needed coffee? She stopped in the kitchen to brew herself some, struggling to read the instructions without yawning, finally managing to get the machine to work with her, rejoining Loki only after she'd doctored up her first mug of the hot drink. He'd cleared off a space for her to sit on one of the props he'd set last night, beckoning her closer when he caught sight of her, smiling to see her awake yet still too tired to catch the way his eyes roved over her body.

"Wh-at's on the agenda today?" She asked, the first word broken by a yawn before she took another sip of her drink. Was this ever going to wake her up?

"Well, first we need to establish some sort of base, some guides for which to go off of. You already asked for my honesty, which you will have, in exchange for your trust. Do you trust me?" He asked, sitting her down on a tall bed of some sort, one padded but raised up from the ground. It put them on equal levels, and as Nat sipped at her drink she nodded.

"Yes, I do trust you."

"Excellent. Then I need you to clear your mind and close your eyes for me," he said, voice going soft and sweet as melted sugar, one of his hands taking her left one. As she followed his orders, doing her best to keep her breathing even, her body steady as she felt his grip steady the left hand, his voice growing lower as he started to murmur in a language she didn't understand. Something sharp pressed into her palm and she shouted, but when she opened her eyes she couldn't see a thing, the blackness extending even though she knew that her eyes were open.

"Loki?" She asked, her voice higher pitched than normal as she felt her heart rate increasing. What the hell was going on? She could feel his hands on her wrists, the pain spiking up her nerves, but something cool pressed up against her cheek.

"You're fine, safe," he promised, his breath warm on her ear as he murmured into it, his lips pressing gently to the skin. "Trust me, remember?"

Right. Trust. How the hell was that supposed to work again when she couldn't see what he was doing? She bit her bottom lip as she tried to force her heart to slow back down to a normal, healthy speed, not that it went very well. At least the pain of the cut began to fade, though she felt what must've been blood pooling in the spot that she'd been cut. She closed her eyes, the organs useless to her anyway, and a hand smoothed over her left upper arm. Loki's voice kept mumbling in her ear, words that she couldn't begin to decipher where they began or end, barely drawing breath as something cold and wet was painted on the skin of her left forearm, what felt like an upwards painted arrow. She tried to resist asking what it was, not wanting to distract him too much from what he was doing out of fear of what it would do, but not knowing seemed even worse. What if it didn't help?

'Trust, Natasha. Trust.'

Right. She could do that, couldn't she? After all he hadn't given her any reason not to trust her. Not yet, at least. She hoped he never did. Forcing herself to relax, she tipped her head back slightly and tried to lose herself in the cadence of his words, the way that each of them had a certain rhythm, the comfort that she was almost able to draw from it. It was relaxing in its own certain way, how she assumed a familiar song or rhyme might be, even if she didn't understand what it all meant.

Tiwaz. He kept repeating that word over and over again, and with each repetition of it the mark on her arm seemed to twinge, the pain of her hand long since forgotten. What did it mean? She'd never heard the word before, or, rather not that she could remember, yet the power it held seemed to make her heart beat harder every time it came out of his mouth. Or perhaps that was simply their proximity.

She was jolted backwards, glad that she'd sat on the bed so that it was positioned full out behind her, the world around her seeming to shake away underneath her until she wasn't sure of anything except for Loki's presumed hand on hers and his words still ringing in her ear. For a brief moment she thought she could understand what he was saying. 'Return what has been lost, replace what once was here, allow again for balance.'

Her heart stopped for a moment, and she swore the air was stolen from her lungs, before it all came crashing back around her with the rest of the world, eyes snapping open to see the white, brightly lit ceiling above her. Nothing else, however, returned to her mind. No sudden, quick realization, no flooding of memories, and she felt regret and disappointment seep through her veins. She'd really thought, idiotic though it likely was, that it might've changed something. She whipped her head to the side, catching sight of a deep red-brown arrow painted on her upper arm, a stinging in her hand that had only faded out of her attention, and now came back with sharp promise once her gaze was drawn to it again.

"Nothing happened," she said, brow pulled tight as she turned to look at Loki, who simply shook his head.

"It was a preemptive spell. To ready your mind," he said. "The sudden recurrence of memories and thoughts, unlocking them, can be rather painful if you are not prepared for it. It's too sudden, too dangerous, and if you have not been made ready it can even lead to an overload of your mind, which will kill you," he told her in all seriousness. "This helps to expand your mind, to ensure it is willing to receive the memories that had been taken from you. I'd rather you didn't die, it looks very bad on the report," he said, and though the corners of his lips quirked up in a teasing smile she didn't return it, swallowing thickly. Well, that made two of them.

"So now what, now that I've been properly prepped?" She asked, trying not to sound as worried as she was, leaning back on her hands as she surveyed him.

"Now the real work begins. You'll want to lie down again," he said, moving to the side and summoning herbs into a bowl, using his magic to grind them while he worked at something else she couldn't see. As instructed, she laid back, staring up at the plain white ceiling tiles above her, trying to guess at how many there were before she got bored.

"So, why're you on Earth if you're like Thor and from outer space?" She asked after some time. "I mean, it's not like we're all that exciting. You've probably seen more than I ever have." Especially now, she considered with the quickest quirk of her lips.

"I was not fond of my foster parents," Loki murmured, voice so soft that she had to strain to hear it, turning her head in his direction, eyes trying to decipher what it was he was doing. His arms moved swiftly and with ease, obviously well practiced at it, shoulders and stance relaxed as he looked to be stirring something, though what it was was hidden by his body. In front of him, he raised one of his hands to draw what looked like the same symbol, an upwards pointing arrow, into the air, and the symbol actually burned red for a moment before it collapsed into a fine, brick red color and he collected it in a small bowl he'd had in front of him, granite grey and thick.

Nat tipped her head to the side, confused a little. "Your foster parents? I thought you and Thor-."

"Did he not tell you of my parentage?" He asked, his lips tight as he turned away from her, shoulders tense and the movements less graceful and fluid than before. Interesting.

"No," she said simply.

That seemed to please him, if the way that he relaxed half an inch or so was any indicator, though he didn't say anything for some time, his arms moving quickly as he combined ingredients without seeming to stop and consider what he was doing. She wondered how often he'd been asked to do this, or something like it, but kept from asking him in favor of watching him work. There was something oddly mesmerizing about it, her head tipping to the side as she considered him. He was intent on his work, focused in a way that she wasn't sure she could even begin to appreciate without knowing what it was like to be so purely interested and invested in doing one thing. Perhaps it was strange to her only because of the lack of her memories, but Loki's sureness and obvious knowledge about how to do whatever it was he was doing?

She wasn't sure there was anything more interesting to watch than watching him work.

"Enjoying the show?"

She flushed, and though he didn't turn around to look at her she could hear the smile in his quiet, private laugh, the noise hitting her hard in the gut and wishing she knew how to make him make more of it.

"You just look really intent. How many times have you done this?" She couldn't help but ask. Was that rude? Maybe.

"This spell?" He asked, turning his head a couple inches so one of his eyes could catch her gaze and the pink flush that still covered her cheeks. "I studied the mind for a couple decades, attempted to learn how it worked and how it held memories and thoughts, emotions and dreams. Upon realizing that there was little one could do that wouldn't affect the head I considered it a victory and gave it up. So for this spell I've only done it a few times," he admitted. "Though each time has been positive."

She thought it over. That wasn't bad, as far as assurances went for whether or not something was going to work. She was sure she could think of worse ways that this could've gone down. Like the fact that, when he turned to finally look at her, she could see him hard and pressing against the fabric of his jeans. She swallowed as quietly as she could imagine, quickly turning her eyes away as the heat intensified between her legs and on her face. How did she even have enough blood to do that?!

"Do I embarrass you?" He asked, voice quiet and amused and far too close for her, but when she looked over he was mere inches from her face. One of his fingers had the red powder in hand and now that her head had turned he dragged a couple fingers down her face, writing something from her left cheek to her neck, then repeating the process on the other side.

"No."

"So why are you so flushed?" He asked, eyes flicking up to hers, and she tried not to scowl.

"Because you seem hell bent on trying to make me so. And my mind wanders." They'd promised to be honest to one another, hadn't they? Well she supposed it was better for her to set an example.

"Oh?" He grinned as he finished painting whatever it was on her skin. "It must be such an interesting place for your mind to have taken residence there. What were you thinking of?"

"It's not really any of your business," Natasha couldn't help but mumble as he closed his eyes and put his hands on either side of her face, holding her gently.

"Close your eyes," he murmured. She did.

It only made sense, she supposed, for him to take her entirely by surprise and press his lips to hers. She guessed, based on how he tensed up immediately, then relaxed, that he hadn't anticipated her returning the favor.

A burst of something white-hot and painful hit her hard on the back of the skull, and she pulled away from Loki with a groan as a flash of a young child, red curly hair in a messy ponytail, crouched in front of a dead body, the girl's hands stained with blood and her eyes determinedly blinking away hot tears as they threatened to stray down her cheeks. Nat's own eyes flew open, destroying the image, or memory or whatever it was, and swallowing thickly as she looked to Loki, who looked just as surprised as she was sure she did.

"Was that?"

"Your past. Yes," Loki said, voice quiet. He looked to the door. "I need a word with my brother. You stay here. Order breakfast or something, but please. Don't leave."

She gave him three minutes after he'd stepped from the room to follow after him, not having any interest in following the rules.

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A/N: Oh wow, I'm so sorry for how long that took for me to get updated. I've been getting this chapter written piece by piece, but I think I've got a clear idea where I'm going from here on so hopefully it gets finished pretty quickly. As ever thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

She stood just outside in the hall after Loki had disappeared into Thor and the other men's room, and though Thor boomed his greeting to his brother the other seemed less than thrilled.

"What exactly am I supposed to be seeing here?" He hissed. "She's been hurt, Thor, do you know what? Do you want her remembering it all?" He sounded as though he could barely hold it back, voice shaking slightly, and Nat could only imagine his face drawn tight as he glowered at his brother.

"What's the problem?" She could hear Clint now. "Did you get some of her memories back?"

"Yes. I wish to know what happened to her when she grew up." Loki said, sounding less than thrilled to have to deal with Barton, not that Nat could understand why. It wasn't as though the archer had done anything to offend him. Well, not that she could tell at least. They were all taking their cues from Thor, after all, and it didn't seem that the two brothers were on the very best of terms.

Clint hesitated just long enough to make Loki growl. "Tell me or I'll not go any further with this job."

"Why does it matter so much?" Clint asked, his voice defensive. "You agreed and even said that you were curious enough to take the damn job. You'll do it no matter because it'll eat you alive until you do."

"I'll not torment her to memories that will break this person that she has been allowed to become. Have you considered that perhaps this is a blessing in disguise?" Loki demanded, his voice very quiet but nevertheless stiff and immovable. "Some of us would be better off if we could forget. If the sins of our past were eradicated from our mind. Do not let your past with her cloud your judgement about what is best for your supposed best friend."

There was silence then a muffled thud, followed by Thor's muffled growl and an ominous rumble of thunder that seemed to come from within the room itself.

"Agent Barton release-."

"You want to know what fucking happened to her?" Clint demanded, his voice shaking, thick with emotion that made even Nat's stomach bottom out. For half a second she considered moving away. Did she even want to hear all this?

She didn't think she could escape Barton's words even if she tried, though. "She was taken in by a real monster of a man. Thor told me that you consider yourself to be a sort of freak, an outcast because your parents didn't want to tell you about your past, so sure you think it's best that she doesn't know. She was pulled apart from a young age, broken down to her basest skills, taught how to kill and how to lie and how to use her body as her main weapon since she was a child. This man that took her in? He specializes in breaking young girls, and he wasn't the only one who worked on Natasha. She's been in and out of her own head more times than she's even told me, and all because the bastard who found her and raised her saw her as a weapon. As a little girl that he could manipulate and fuck with until there was nothing left in her that he didn't want. You want to talk about a fucked up life? She's well into her nineties. That's ninety years of killing, of seducing, of being forced into life that she wanted nothing to do with and shouldn't have had any part in."

There was a shuffle, a couple grunts, and Nat could practically see Loki trying to struggle out of whatever hold Clint had put him in. She guessed it wasn't working because the archer began anew, his voice more venomous than before. "You want to talk about what's fair to Natasha? What's fair is giving her those tools back, so she can finish what she's been trying to do: erase the damage of the past. You want to talk about what would be best for her? Those men that hurt her are still alive. Still very much present. You take those abilities and everything that she's been able to do for herself, how she's been able to take care of herself whether she's alone or with a team? You're killing her. I don't care if you take her to that golden city of yours or not, they will find a way to track her down or pay someone to get to her, and they will end her unless you make sure that she has the tools to stop them again, and again."

His voice was at its breaking point, having shouted as the emotion and pain bled through the walls. Nat didn't have to crouch by the door to hear it all, her stomach bottoming out and her mind blanking as the stories barely registered.

"And if you inadvertently kill her there's no fucking place that you can ever escape to that I will not find you, and make you pay for what you did. Have I made my point fucking clear?"

"Skills can always be taught once more," Loki growled, though his voice was far more strained than Nat had ever heard it, rasping as though air was difficult to find. She could only imagine Clint had tightened his grip on the man's throat, most likely. She swallowed thickly and stood up, opening the door. As expected Clint had Loki by the throat, his forearm trapping the tall man against the wall and pressing even harder against his larynx. Thor looked about to say something before Nat's presence shoved them all into silence. Without another word Clint let Loki down, the man dropping onto his feet and rubbing his throat, though his eyes only ever focused in on Natasha.

"I need to know what happened, Loki," she murmured, suddenly unsure why she'd even come in. She didn't want either of them fighting, though the affection and care was touching, but it wasn't worth them coming to blows or choking for that. "Thanks for your considerate thought, Loki, but I think Clint's right. I need to know." Her arms started trembling, and she wrapped them around herself in order to try and make it stop. That was annoying. "I don't want to relive my life not knowing what I'm running from, or what I've done with it."

"You say that now only because you do not know. There are things you may not wish to have learned again," Loki reminded her, his expression near unreadable as he stared at her.

She shrugged. "Then you can wipe my mind again. Right?"

He scowled. "I'm not able to fix everything, and to tamper with your brain so many times would cause irreparable damage. You are fortunate that, thus far, there isn't anything that has gone incorrectly with either this ceremony or the ones that took your memories."

"It seems to be a speciality of mine, recovering from mental trauma. Right Clint?"

The archer was frowning, and his expression only darkened with the reminder. He sighed. "Unfortunately."

"Then we'll take that chance. But for now? I'd like to know my past, please." She added the last bit to try and soften the command, and judging by how Loki's body relaxed it had at least worked a little.

"Very well. If that is what you want, then that is what I will do," he sighed. She felt a faint pang of gratefulness for the man. Would he truly have stopped if she'd said she didn't want to, despite Clint's threats and the word he'd already given at the beginning of this whole mess? That sort of loyalty was touching, and she found herself shooting him the smallest of smiles.

"Now, can we get some food?" She asked, trying to lighten the mood. "I haven't had breakfast yet."

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A/N: A short update, but an update nonetheless right? Thanks so much for sticking with this through all the delays in writing, and I hope you're enjoying what's been written so far! As ever, thanks a million for your reviews and kind words-they're inspirational and help me keep going. Thanks again!


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